


Amulet

by DrunkenOracle



Series: Mementos [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3535511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrunkenOracle/pseuds/DrunkenOracle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Queen Siiri shares with her daughter a story from her efforts to end the Fifth Blight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amulet

**Author's Note:**

> Warden Siiri Cousland went on to marry King Alistair. Their first child is the young Princess Eleanor, named, of course, for Siiri's mother.

Queen Siiri Theirin tied her dressing gown tight around her waist and ran her fingers lightly along her king’s jawline before leaving their bedchamber and closing the door softly behind her. In the royal parlor, the little Princess Eleanor was staring at her mother’s cabinet of memories, examining the baubles closely.

"You couldn’t sleep either, Pup?" the Queen asked, a light laugh upon her lips. She stood behind her daughter and wrapped the girl in her arms, smiling at the reflection in the glass door of the cabinet. Oh, how Ellie looked like her father, with his stawberry blonde hair and his hazel eyes, though her features were a little softer, thank the Maker.

"Mama, tell me about one of these trinkets." Princess Eleanor looked at her mother with puppy dog eyes, and the Queen’s heart melted. It was something only sweet little Ellie and her father could do. Siiri was putty in their hands when they looked at her like that.

"Which one, dear?" she asked, smiling and leaning over.

"That one." The princess pointed at a mirrored pendant on a silver chain. "The one from the temple."

"Oh, you do like that story, don’t you. Very well." She pulled her daughter along with her to a couch and settled onto it, the little princess in her lap. "Let me see… It was during the Blight, and your father and I were looking for a way to save your Uncle Eamon…"

* * *

Siiri shrugged as she glanced back at her companions. “Those riddles weren’t really that difficult,” she bemoaned.

"What, you  _want_  to be denied access to the Ashes?” Alistair raised his eyebrow at the warrior.

"No, but the Guardian made it sound like this would be a  _challenge_ , not something even  _you_  could have managed without help, Alistair.” A glint of mischievous glee snuck into the woman’s smile.

"Oh! You  _wound_  me, dear.” The bastard prince threw one hand over his forehead and held his heart with the other, staggering dramatically backward, only to be pushed back forward by Zevran, who snorted in amusement. This, evidently, caught the man off his guard, and he fell forward into Siiri then. She caught him, steady as a statue, and smirked as he regained his composure and spoke. “Right, ah… Let’s just… move on, shall we?”

"That’s probably for the best," Wynne said, her voice cool. "I have a feeling the worst is yet to come." She and the others followed Siiri through the door, nearly running into her when she suddenly stopped, staring at the man in front of her.

"Hello, Pup," he said, his voice rough and kind.

Siiri trembled, and it was the first time any of her companions had ever seen her so shaken. “Dad…?” Her voice was soft, uneven, hurt, and her knees quaked. “No. No, it can’t be. You’re some demon sent to torment me. Leave me be. I’ve had my fill.”

"Oh, no… Look at you…" The specter of Bryce Cousland watched her. "My sweet girl, forced to grow up so fast. Pup, don’t torture yourself over what happened. If you had stayed we would  _all_  be gone, but here you are, alive and well and trying so hard to save our home.”

Siiri shook her head, tears in her eyes, and wanted to back away, to turn and run, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. She felt a tingle on her skin as this would-be ghost of her father touched her cheek lightly, placed a necklace over her head.

"I am so proud of you, Pup." And then he was gone.

Her knees buckled, her legs gave out, and her pain overflowed in hot tears. She was on the floor then, sobbing, and nobody seemed to know what to do, Alistair least of all. In the months they’d been traveling together, nobody had seen her like this. She’d always seemed so calm, so stable, so strong, and now she looked weaker than any of them, broken on the floor of the temple.

"Do something, Alistair," Wynne said, her voice hushed.

"What? Why me?" He backed away, his hands up. "I’ve never seen her cry before. I didn’t even know she could!"

"She likes you best," Zevran hissed. "Talk to her!"

"What am I supposed to say?" Confusion and concern were fighting for dominance of Alistair’s face. "Sorry your dad’s dead, we have a world to save?"

"No!" The elf scowled. "Just… Just talk to her!" He elbowed Alistair before pushing him toward Siiri.

The bastard prince took a couple of deep breaths and wiped his palms dry before kneeling down beside the newer Warden. Hesitantly, he put an arm around her and pulled her in close, his breath catching in his lungs when she tucked her head under his chin and wept openly against his chest. After several minutes, her sobs subsided and even her gasps for air evened out. Finally, she spoke.

"I don’t know if I can do this, Alistair…" Her voice was weak, the first time the man would ever describe anything about her as such, and, he hoped, the last time as well.

"Siiri, you walked into the Fade and beat up demons on their own turf to save us. You are so much stronger than you seem to think." He sighed a little. "I love that about you. If any of us can do this, it’s you."

"But I wasn’t strong enough to save my family… I failed them." Her voice cracked, wavered under the weight of her pain and guilt.

"You know that’s not true. If you’d stayed behind, you’d be gone, too, and… Well, I can’t bear to think about that." He gently pulled the woman’s chin up and looked into her eyes, wiping her tears away with his thumbs. "You did the right thing. We can make things better. Together."

Siiri took a deep breath. “You and me?” Hope crept back into her voice.

"Me and you." Alistair smiled at her and rose back up, helping her up with him. "We’ll save the world, kill the Archdemon, and be home in time for drinks."

"Are you sure it has to be in that order?" She laughed a little and brushed her hair back behind her ears. "Drinks sound nice right about now."

"Your desire is my command." His quirky smile had returned. "But, ah, perhaps we should wait until we get back to Redcliffe."

* * *

"Mama… Mama, don’t cry." Eleanor’s eyes were wide as she leaned over and wiped her mother’s tears away. "Grandpa loved you. He just wanted to tell you that again."

Siiri laughed. She hadn’t even realized she’d started crying. “You’re right, Pup. And I know he’d love you, too.” She kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Now off to bed with you. It’s late.” A smile on her face, she watched the girl stumble back to her bedchamber, closing the door softly behind her.

"I love listening to you tell stories."

The queen looked over to find her husband leaning against the doorframe to their bedchamber, a tired smile on his face. She rose from the couch and joined him, happy to wrap herself in his arms and his warmth. “The only one better at telling stories is you, Alistair.”

"Eleanor has always liked yours best, dearest." He drew her chin up to stare into her eyes, as he’d done so many times before. "Are you coming back to bed now?"


End file.
